


Experience

by tvvinkqueen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Zayn, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punk!Zayn, also, and silver hair, bc fav, because why not?, i mean there's kind of plot?, oh and Zayn has a tongue ring, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvvinkqueen/pseuds/tvvinkqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam is inexperienced so he goes to a gay bar. He meets Zayn (and by "meet" I actually mean Zayn creeper stares until Liam notices). Zayn has silver hair and takes him home to silk sheets. Sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experience

**Author's Note:**

> this wasn't beta'd i am so sorry

Liam is a lot of things; he’s smart, he’s athletic, he’s kind-hearted, good-natured, and an all-around caring lad. He’s a brother, a son, and a second-year Uni student, studying English and Physics at a college near London.

He’s got a full list of things under his belt, but experience is not one.

Liam had traveled Europe with his study group for a semester. He’s seen Italy and the rivers of Venice, the original Mona Lisa painting that hung in the Louvre. He’s stood under the Eiffel Tower in Paris and visited the house Anne Frank and her family hid in during World War Two and he’s been to the local shops of Amsterdam.

Liam is experienced in a worldly sense; he’s seen life and beautiful things. He’s felt heartbreak and he knows loss.

What he’s not experienced in, however, is sex.

He’s not too much in the dark with the subject; he knows how to please women and he’s done it before. Alice, the first and, god, _only_ girl he’s ever had sex with, likes to say he’s the best she ever had, although Liam’s sure it’s just a lie she told him to boost his ego. They were 15; you can’t really decide something like that. Or have much practice with it.

So Liam knows what it’s like for two bodies to work together.

He doesn’t know what it’s like for two similar bodies to work together.

Liam didn’t dabble in the gay community – at all. It was never that he didn’t want to; it was that he didn’t know that he did. It took him years, but at almost 20 years old he’s found himself walking into an LGBTQ friendly bar in inner London that serves fruity drinks on the house and holds people from all walks of life to figure it out.

He thinks he always sort of knew; girls were beautiful. Liam could appreciate the soft curves of their body and the smoothness of their skin and the way so many of them took reign of their femininity confidently. He just couldn’t appreciate them under the covers when the lights were off and the sound of their breath was too loud in the silence of the room.

He knew his body craved something different when the thought of rough stubble and firm hands started to cloud his thoughts; when the idea of hair feathering the center of a stomach and a bulge pressing into his took over and the speed of his hand increased.

So he’s sat at the bar, clammy palms and a drink he ordered with a stuttering tongue in front of him. In all honesty, he’s not too sure what he’s doing there. His thought process wasn’t very well sought out, but if the night ended with him being just off the edge of tipsy as he walked home on cobbled pavement that would be okay with him, because he’ll know that this is where he’s supposed to be.

He’s not used to the loud thumping of the music or the neon lights around him, and in his blue jeans and plaid shirt he feels very out of place, but at the same time he feels like he’s welcome there.

The dance floor is crowded but Liam is too shy and isn’t much of a dancer to want to go out and attempt it, so he stays glued to the bar stool the first half an hour, taking his time sipping on the bright blue cocktail in front of him.

When he orders a second, the bartender, a very normal looking woman with cleavage for days and striking green eyes gives Liam a slight smirk, almost a mocking stare in the most adoring way possible. Liam tries to not gawk at her, but he does and she chuckles, putting the liquor bottle back where she grabbed it and then leaning on the bar.

“You haven’t a clue have you?” she asks, just loud enough that Liam can hear her over the dance music thumping away if he leans in far enough.

Liam’s jaw clenches and he shakes his head obliviously, curious eyes staring back at her. She nods to the other end of the bar and Liam looks where she’s gestured.

“Pretty boy’s been staring at you for a solid ten, mate.”

And pretty… pretty is right, but it’s not enough. Pretty with an edge; the lad the woman had gestured to was anything but what Liam was expecting. His hair was a silver, almost grey tinted color, styled messily atop his head into a quiff. The color was definitely dye; there was no way someone who looked as young as he did could be graying that early. He had dark eyebrows that complimented naturally tan olive skin and a sharp jawbone, perfectly lined with stubble. Liam wished he could see more from where he was sitting, but with the dark gaze he felt hovering over him it was hard to analyze anything else on the other.

The man was definitely staring at Liam with an unmistakable look and it made his face flush, like he was embarrassed of the way this person was looking at him with such intent. Liam was without a doubt not at all stupid; he’d seen himself give the wrong people that look before.

He’d just never seen it given to him.

“Oh,” is all that comes out of Liam’s mouth, and the bartender leaves with a leering smile plastered on her face. Almost on cue, the punky-looking man slides off his stool with his sights set on Liam, who inhales sharply and almost knocks his drink over as he directs his gaze back to the tabletop of the wooden bar before him and does his best to not make any further eye contact with the disgustingly attractive man who – _fuck_ – was right by Liam now.

Liam can feel him; he can feel eyes on him when the man takes the stool next to him. He thinks he’s probably a bit silly the way he’s hunched over himself and acting like he didn’t know that there was someone trying to make conversation with him when they had just been practically eye-fucking Liam from across the room. But Liam could put up a front when he needed to, and right now, he felt like he needed to.

He hears the punk laugh for a second and Liam clutches his drink.

“Cute.”

That’s all the other man says. One word, one drawn out syllable in an accent Liam can hardly understand through the music and yet it has Liam’s chest tightening. Maybe this was all a mistake? Maybe it would be best if Liam were to just shove his wallet into his back pocket, apologize to the man for wasting his interests, and excusing himself before shuffling out the door.

Most of Liam really, really wanted that. But another part knew that would be childish; he needed this for himself, and he’d be right mad to leave grey hair and dark eyes for a night of Netflix and regret.

So he lifts his eyes from where they’ve been boring holes into wood and forces himself to make eye contact with the stranger to his right, feeling his heart racing as he does because… well, shit. Liam may be getting into more than he originally thought. He was even more gorgeous and fucking intimidating than Liam had first noticed. He takes in a leather jacket over a low collared, practically see-through white shirt, skinny jeans that are ripped at the knees, and combat boots. There’s a stud in his nose and beneath that shirt are outlines of tattoos that Liam can see even in the dim light of the club and his breath hitches.

“W-What’s cute?” Liam stutters quite embarrassingly, actually, and he swears at himself in his head. He’s not usually this flustered around people, really, it’s just that this particular person had him practically salivating at the corners of his mouth. (Which was gross, Liam, put your tongue back in your head).

“You,” the other says simply, fingers wrapped around a fruity drink of his own, his red instead of the blue like Liam’s. “How you were ignoring me.”

Liam suddenly feels apologetic, like he needs to explain himself and that that’s not at all what he was trying to do, and he goes to do so.

“I-I wasn’t – I just – wasn’t expecting-“

“Expecting what? A man? You seemed a little off, thought y’ were just shy but if you’re not into dick I would suggest maybe-“

“No no,” Liam cuts him off with defensive hands flailing back and forth, and the man (fucking stunning man, _fuck_ , Liam can’t get over that jawline) leans back a little with an amused, mocked look at Liam’s frantic waving. “It’s not that I’m… I like men.” (shit, he’s never said that out loud) “You’re just…” Liam doesn’t know how to tell him that he’s the only man who’s ever found interest in him and that when it came to the whole _gay relationship sex thing_ he was really  out of his element and quite a late bloomer, so he just settles with “You’re really fit. Like, really, and I’m- and yeah. I wasn’t expecting… expecting…”

He struggles to find the words, but it’s okay because jawline (that’s what Liam’s going to call him until they get on a first name basis, he thinks) finishes the sentence for him.

“Expecting to get hit on by a well fit looking lad? Or were you not expecting me to tell you that I think you’re quite fit as well and I wouldn’t mind having you back at mine for the night because I’d really, _really_ like to see how you’d look bare-arsed and spread over my bed sheets? Anything like that?”

Liam swallows the lump in his throat. He can’t do anything else but give a little nod and slam the rest of his drink. He thinks he’s going to need it for the upcoming events.

“Up for it…?” jawline trails off, and it takes Liam a second to realize that he means he wants Liam to fill in the gap with his name.

“Oh, uh, Liam,” he says, and outstretches his hand. Jawline gives it a mere glance before looking back at Liam’s face.

“Zayn.” Zayn grabs hold of Liam’s fist without breaking eye contact and Liam feels small underneath his grasp, which is dumb because if you were to look at the ratio between the two Liam had Zayn beat in both height and build, but the way Zayn stared (as if he were trying to soak in every inch of him and eat him alive) had him feeling all too inferior.

“So,” Zayn begins, dropping Liam’s hand, and instead of withdrawing his back to his own lap he places his hand on Liam’s thigh, near the center, and Liam glances down at. “That sound alright to you?”

Liam doesn’t know when another lump has formed in his throat, but it has, and he thinks he should get that checked out when he gulps that one down as well and nods.

Zayn is quick to hop off of the bar stool and take Liam by the front of his shirt, pulling him off the stool gently yet fervently. It’s clear that he just wants to get out of there and Liam does too, really, but he’s not sure what to expect. Zayn seemed like a confident guy, and although small in a way Liam knew that he could take him, he was still sort of nervous about going to a random stranger’s home. He’s never had a one night stand, as was already established. This wasn’t like him, and yet there he was, getting into a cab Zayn had flagged down and settling himself awkwardly in the back seat, with Zayn right next to him with his head buried into his neck.

Liam tries to keep his cool at the feel of light breath trailing over his skin, but he still feels goose bumps rising and chills racing down his spine at the close proximity Zayn’s in. He can’t help it, though he really wishes he could.

“I have a flat not too far from here,” Zayn sighs in his ear; Liam can feel his lips nudging against his earlobe when he talks and it’s distracting from his trying to count the light posts they past. He reaches 19 when Zayn bites his lobe and gives a little tug and he loses count. “Like, a five minute drive. ’s small but it’s nice. I have a big bed with silk sheets. I bet you’d look so good on them Liam. Bet you’d look amazing with a cock in your mouth, too.” Zayn reaches a hand up and drags his thumb over Liam’s fat bottom lip. “Your lips look like they’re made for it.”

“For what?” Liam asks, just above a whisper. He heard everything that Zayn said but his head’s a bit fuzzy to register it all correctly. In one ear, out the other as most people would say.

Zayn snickers and buries his face in the crook of Liam’s shoulder, tugging at the front of his shirt gently and scooting closer as he presses a kiss to the birthmark on Liam’s neck. Liam tenses, but only because he can feel himself starting to harden and really doesn’t want to sport a stiffy while in the back of a cab.

“Getting a lad off with your mouth,” Zayn informs him, and Liam says “Oh” quietly, letting Zayn bite at his neck. He’s unsure of what to do with his hands; where they should go and how and if he should even be doing something back right now, since Zayn seemed so content with being the one to glide his hand up and down Liam’s chest, keeping the other smushed between them.

The cab ride seems like it takes longer than 5 minutes, but they finally halt to a stop outside of a dinky looking neighborhood. It unnerves Liam a little, but he doesn’t worry too much when Zayn throws a wad of papers at the driver and clambers out of the cab, tugging Liam with him.

“Mind if I light up?” Zayn asks, dragging Liam up the few steps to the front door of the apartment complex. Liam shakes his head and stands awkwardly as Zayn takes out a cigarette and a light, letting the grey-haired man puff on his spliff and stare at him. He returns the gaze, feeling all too overwhelmed at the situation he had gotten himself in, and it isn’t until they’re in Zayn’s flat that he brings up something he knows he should have said right away.

“I’ve never actually been with a man before,” Liam spews quickly, surprised the words even came out without getting jumbled over his tongue. He watches Zayn freeze for a moment, cigarette still between his lips and the smoke wisping gently into the air above his head. Zayn’s yet to turn on a light so the only light in the room is coming from the orange streetlight outside, and Liam can surprisingly see Zayn fairly clearly in the murky colors. He can also see Zayn’s bed behind him and the messiness of his apartment, although it doesn’t faze him.

Zayn turns slowly, gives Liam a once-over, and Liam’s ready to turn on his heel and get out of there before Zayn curses him out for wasting his time when he does the complete opposite, taking a short stride towards Liam and taking the fag from his lips between two fingers. He wraps his arms around Liam’s neck and Liam’s well aware of his bulge that’s most certainly pressing into Zayn’s thigh, but Zayn doesn’t seem to care about anything as he leans forward and presses his lips to Liam’s. Liam stills at the feeling – it’s familiar; kissing he’s done a lot, but never with a lad, and he finds he enjoys the feel of Zayn’s stubble scratching onto his chin more than he’d imagined he would. Zayn’s also a bit rough in the most delicate way, and Liam notices that there’s a lack of breasts pressing against his chest and he finds himself enjoying the kiss more and more.

“There,” Zayn says, leaning back some and smirking at Liam, tongue running over his lips and biting the bottom one. “Now you’ve been with a man.”

Liam blushes as Zayn drops his arms from his shoulders and walks towards his bed, flopping down on it. He puts his cigarette back in his mouth and shrugs off his jacket and tosses it aside, leaning forward to undo his laces and Liam watches the gentle muscles Zayn’s sporting and the way they twist under his skin and he likes that. He really likes that.

When Zayn gets his boots off he looks over at Liam, still sitting in a hunched over up-right position, and he smirks while waving Liam over. He takes the spliff from his lips and says, “Come on then. Thought I was getting you naked.”

Liam doesn’t remember his brain telling his feet to move as fast and they did, but they seemed to move on their own accord towards the beautiful man in front of him. Zayn smirks as Liam crawls on top of the bed, leaning back to put out his smoke on the ashtray next to his bed and then turns his attention towards Liam, who’s sitting at the end of the bed awkwardly with his hands on his thighs, nice and proper like his mum taught him.

Only, he wasn’t with his mum now. He was with a man he quite fancied and who found interest in him and it had his heart racing, mostly in anticipation.

“You alright?” Zayn gives Liam half a second to nod before tugging him back on the bed and climbing over his lap, and that’s when Liam notices he’s not the only one who’s grown hard in his pants.

“Good, because I’m going to kiss you some more and I’d enjoy it more if your hands were on me bum if I’m honest.” Liam nods again, seeming to have lost all memory on how to speak, but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind. Liam’s grateful for it and this time he’s more prepared for when Zayn hovers over him and slots his lips against his own.

He likes kissing, he knows how to kiss. All he has to do is loosen up a bit and get into it, so he raises his hands hesitantly and places them on Zayn’s waist, finding that he’s a bit smaller than he looked when swallowed in that leather jacket and Liam likes the way his hands fit at his sides nicely. Zayn seems to like it too, the way his hips slowly undulate into Liam’s crotch. He’s not achingly hard yet, but if Zayn keeps that up he will be soon.

“God,” Zayn breathes the word onto Liam’s lips, placing a hand to his jawline and examining Liam’s face before pressing kisses to his neck. “You’re seriously fuckin’ hot mate. You really ‘aven’t been with a lad before?”

“N-No,” Liam replies with a shudder, tightening his grip on Zayn’s waist and he hears Zayn hiss a little, retracting the pressure of his fingers.

Zayn makes a small noise of protest and reaches to press Liam’s hands back in place. Oh. Right.

“That’s mad,” Zayn comments, moving his mouth back over Liam’s and he can’t seem to breathe with how close Zayn is and how they’re barely a centimeter apart and the way Zayn’s pupils have blown up like he was on a high. “I’ll make it good for you.”

They go at kissing again and this time Liam can feel Zayn’s tongue give a small lick at Liam’s lips, so he parts them and allows Zayn inside. Almost immediately, he notices something quite small and hard when Zayn licks into his mouth and he nudges his head back into the mattress with a stunned look. Zayn is smirking, and then sticks out his tongue to flash a metal stud in the center of the pink; a tongue ring.

Liam definitely didn’t have experience with those.

It’s almost like Zayn’s taking advantage of the stud in his mouth, using it against Liam in a way that has him rocking his body up into the smaller, and it’s getting a response out of Zayn, pushing his hips back into the larger man’s so that they’re starting a smooth rhythm, pitching into each other more and more desperately by the second.

“Come on.” Zayn sits up and slips his shirt off, revealing a multitude of tattoos. Liam takes a second to analyze all of them, marveling at the artwork covering tan skin stretched over a lean body and he almost whines in the back of his throat at how fucking hot Zayn is.

Zayn licks his lips and it catches Liam’s eye; it takes him a second to realize that Zayn had been staring at him with that same look and it forced something out of him. His hands trace down Zayn’s sides and over the tight fit of his jeans, over his bum like Zayn had said he wanted. Liam doesn’t know exactly where he’s staring (somewhere between Zayn’s neck and his shoulder blade), just that he’s avoiding the smirk Zayn’s giving him when Liam flattens his palms over the curve of Zayn’s arse and presses, pushing their hips together more forcibly as Liam’s eyes flutter at the pressure against his dick.

“That’s right,” Zayn encourages; Liam notices the slight quiver in his voice and pushes harder, inhaling sharp breaths when he feels a hand sneak between them. Zayn’s fingers fit over the outline of his dick beneath his trousers and Liam pauses, letting his head drop back to the mattress so he could close he eyes and enjoy the feel of finally having a hand that wasn’t his own touch him.

“Guess you haven’t had a lad suck you off then?”

Liam lifts his head up and looks at Zayn’s leering face over him, watches him suddenly shift down his legs and begins undoing the button of his jeans. Liam’s words get stuck.

“I-I’ve. No. Never. No one.” It comes out too fast and Liam thinks Zayn didn’t catch a word when he pauses and gives Liam a strange look, one that has his eyebrow raised, but the only response Liam gets out of him is a halfhearted shrug and he’s swiftly undoing the fly on Liam’s jeans. There isn’t much time to think, so Liam just reacts, shuffling out of his kit and gasping when Zayn leans over the evident bulge pressed into his briefs and mouths at it.

He tries to get a look at what exactly Zayn’s doing but all he sees is a tousled bed of silver hair so he takes hold, grasping a tuft and dropping his head to the mattress. His fingers slink out of their grip when Zayn lifts his head just enough to drag Liam’s pants down.

And suddenly everything’s so clear and so amplified that Liam’s not really sure he’s going to be able to last as long as he thought he might be able to. Not with the way Zayn has over half of his dick in his mouth while lazily stroking the other half. It’s not even like he’s _trying_ , the slow little bobs of his head and languid flicks of his tongue, but Liam feels like he’s on edge every time Zayn tugs back his foreskin and tongues at his slit, licking up pearly beads of precum that Liam doesn’t even know are there.

“You’re like, proper fit mate,” Zayn says when he’s lifted himself from Liam’s cock, nose almost touching the head as he pumps it agonizingly slow. Liam raises his head and watches, biting down on his lip just to steady himself. He feels a slight blush creep up onto his cheeks and tries to not let Zayn’s words affect him too much. Instead, he lets a surge of confidence race through him and takes Zayn by the jawline, leading him up so that they’re face to face so that Liam can kiss him.

The salty sweet mixed with the husky nicotine on Zayn’s tongue has Liam rutting his hips into Zayn for more, and he can feel Zayn smile just past his lips. It’s followed by fingertips on his tummy, and his shirt is being lifted over his head. When they break apart to get it passed his neckline Liam notices that Zayn is still wearing far too many clothes for his liking, so he does what any person would do and he returns the favor, rushing to the tight jeans.

They’re a slight struggle, the way the fabric clings to Zayn’s legs making it a bit harder for Liam to get them off in record time like he wanted to, but with a bit of Zayn’s help and a switched position he finally manages to slip them over his feet and climb back over Zayn’s body.

He takes a second to stare at Zayn and can’t help but swear under his breath. Zayn just smirks, like he had been most of the night (like he knows how fucking _gorgeous_ he is and how much Liam wants him), and he nods up like he’s going for a kiss, stopping at the last second and leaving Liam in a lingering position, and then he does it again. Liam knows he’s teasing, urging the younger to kiss him first again.

So he does. Liam kisses him how he thinks he’d like to be kissed, all tongue and cheek and gentle nibbles on his bottom lip. He thinks he’s doing well, like he’s getting Zayn right hard, but he only thinks so because Zayn won’t stop trying to roll his hips into Liam’s. Something makes Liam think that if he can be teased, then Zayn can too.

“Stop playing,” Zayn says, breaking the kiss and biting the shy man’s collarbone. Liam pushes him back and sinks his teeth into Zayn’s neck, trying not to think as he trails a hand over the elder’s dick, stiff and wet beneath the underwear he’s still wearing.

It’s only a little strange, Liam thinks, having another man’s cock in his hand, but he figures they work the same so it won’t be too hard to get him off a little with a few strokes.

Zayn moans out Liam’s name, making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up and a wave of heat blooms inside of him.

“Get up,” he says next, and Liam rolls off of him, watching Zayn crawl across red silk to the nightstand. He shuffles through a few random wires and objects before retracting a bottle and a small foil packet. Liam’s stomach flutters.

When Zayn faces Liam again he’s up on his knees, rubbing circles into the swell of his pants with the palm of his hand.

“You gonna just lay there or am I gonna have to fuck meself?” Zayn gives himself two more quick presses before sinking to the mattress and resting on his elbows, bum high in the air. It sways back and forth a little, like an invitation that Liam’s not going to deny, so he brings himself to his knees and watches Zayn spread his legs more so that Liam can kneel between them.

It’s different this way, he thinks, but he likes it. He likes the swell of Zayn’s back and the dimples at the bottom of his spine, the way his form shapes into the round of his bum and how Zayn’s breathing has shallowed.

“Liam,” Zayn breathes, and Liam almost forgets that he’s supposed to be fucking him right now. Right.

He takes the band of Zayn’s underwear and slowly tugs it over his arse just until they’re around his upper thighs; just enough until the pink of his hole is exposed. Liam watches the way it clenches around nothing when the chilled air hits it and he can’t help but place a large hand over the cheek, his thumb pressing into the surface of Zayn’s entrance. His breathing hitches and he flattens his palm to the other cheek excitedly, spreading Zayn open and pushing his fingertips into the skin.

“Fuck me.” Liam barely hears Zayn over the buzzing in his own head but he does just enough to know to grab the bottle of lube. He’s clumsy with it, but he manages two slicked fingers and wiping the rest on Zayn’s hole.

“Two is fine,” Zayn says before Liam even has the chance to ask, “Want you in me soon.”

Liam nods, despite Zayn’s inability to see, and pushes two fingers into the taut skin.

Tight. That’s what Liam thinks the instant he has his fingers inside, his knuckles pushing past the second row of muscles. Zayn’s pressing back against him almost immediately, and it takes Liam a few seconds to just stop his movements completely and-

“Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Zayn stills, looking back over his shoulder with his lip between his teeth, a devilish smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He does as told, rocking back and forth so that Liam can watch his fingers appear and disappear only to reappear and so on and so forth.

“Like that, yeah?” Zayn asks, watching Liam nod. “Like watching me open up for you? So you can fuck me.”

Liam places a hand at the small of Zayn’s back and he manages to arch his spine further, only giving Liam a better view of what he’s going to be fucking in a few minutes. He suppresses the moan at the back of his throat and just focuses on stretching Zayn out, pushing in a third finger alongside the two and Zayn drops his head, shaking it a bit.

“Just – fuck Leeyum. Just fucking _do_ it.”

“Fuck you?” Liam asks, sincerely in a way that makes him feel stupid. Zayn doesn’t care – doesn’t notice – only nods. Okay. He can do that. He takes the condom and rolls it over himself. He feels like a virgin, and to this he supposes he is, but this feels different; better, and he at least knows what to do as he lines himself up and slips inside almost too easily.

The word ‘tight’ comes to mind again and he almost feels like he can’t take a breath at the heat enveloping him. Zayn doesn’t seem to have a problem with any of it, no pained or uncomfortable noises surface from him, so Liam just sinks in until his balls are pressed against tan skin and he’s struggling to keep himself on his knees.

Zayn’s head drops and Liam watches the muscles in his back shift beautifully and he suddenly wants nothing more than to trace his tongue over every dip and curve that forms. He settles on shaping his hands at Zayn’s sides instead, feeling the swell of his curves and holding him at the smallest part of his waist so that he can pull out and thrust in again.

He feels Zayn tremble under his fingertips and figures that’s a good thing, and then begins a steady pace, fucking into him like he thinks he should. He can’t see the silver-haired man’s face but he hopes he’s causing some sort of effect (he is, and Zayn can’t stop biting down on his bottom lip, so hard in fact he thinks he might bleed but that’s only because Liam was teasing him and didn’t even fucking know, the bastard).

“Liam.” Zayn breathes heavily, lifting his head back up and trying to look over his shoulder at Liam. “Mate, you’ve got to _fuck_ me.”

Liam stutters, feels like he’s doing something wrong, and starts to slow, which only frustrates Zayn even more.

“Grab my hair.” Zayn barks the instruction like he’s almost angry but really he just wants Liam to do as good of a job as they both want him to; no sense in being fucked if it’s not how you’d like it.

Liam does as instructed, getting a good hold of the silver strands and Zayn immediately sighs contently.

“Now pull, yeah.” Liam jerks on his hair and it forces Zayn’s head back. A smile curves over his lips as he hisses. “Like that, fuck.”

So they go at it like that for a few minutes, until Liam can’t take the little moans Zayn can’t stop yipping out of him and he automatically goes to wrap his arm around Zayn’s neck, pushing him down to the mattress so that he’s almost flat against the silk and Liam can fuck into him harder like this. Zayn’s fingers pry at the strong forearm enclosed around him but he does it out of excitement, jaw slacked and eyes lidded at the angle Liam’s in, the head of his dick brushing right against that spot inside of him that has him seeing stars whenever he closes his eyes.

All Zayn can hear is Liam breathing in his ear and the way it trickles down his neck has him rotating his hips into the mattress, needy for friction he can’t really get in his position.

That’s what Liam wanted though, and he feels as if he likes the powerful position he’s in a bit too much because he can’t stop snapping his hips into the man underneath him; can’t stop forcing those sounds out of him.

“Gonna come soon?” Liam asks, noticing how dark his voice has gotten and sort of loving it. Zayn nods and Liam digs his teeth into Zayn’s shoulder, holding himself off because he was on the verge as well but watching Zayn come first was something he had to have.

Before he can do anything, however, Zayn pushes back against him and manages to get himself up. Within seconds they’ve flipped and Liam is on his back once again, except this time Zayn climbs over him to sit on his dick and brace himself on Liam’s chest. It’s different like this - a better kind of different; Liam thinks he can get more of him in Zayn like this, so when Zayn begins bouncing up and down he grabs at his arse and gives his thoughts a once-over before bringing his hand back and giving Zayn a quick slap on his bum.

The noise that comes out of Zayn is practically unimaginable so Liam does it again, then sits up on his elbow and circles an arm around Zayn’s waist, bucking his hips up and watching concentration lines that had formed on Zayn’s brow fade as pleasure took over.

The more he bucks into him the more lucid Zayn becomes, and so Liam decides he might be closer than ever. With that thought in mind, he watches as Zayn wraps a hand around himself and begins tugging. All Liam can do is fuck him through it, and it isn’t long until he’s coming and strips of white paint themselves over Liam’s stomach and chest.

Liam doesn’t think he’s seen a more beautiful sight, the way Zayn’s face contorted and the small shape his pink lips had formed as he almost froze, riding out his high in little undulations with his eyes closed and his breath heavy.

His chest is heaving as he comes down and looks at Liam, who’s sort of stopped all movements just to watch, like he’s forgotten that he’s still hasn’t come yet when he desperately needs to. Zayn hasn’t forgotten though, and (as if he hadn’t just used every last ounce of energy in him to come) he musters up more and starts riding Liam again.

The mere thought that Zayn was continuing just to get Liam off has him on the edge quickly. He can’t seem to stop staring at the man above him, hands slinking up and down his sides and feeling the movements of his body. He’s close, moaning out Zayn’s name seconds before Zayn runs two fingers through the cum on Liam’s chest and hooks those fingers in Liam’s mouth.

The gesture and pressure of Zayn squeezing his cock has him coming in seconds, fingertips bruising into Zayn’s waist as he tilts his head back and releases into the condom. He feels Zayn’s fingers over his tongue and he tries to focus on the taste as the buzzing in his head washes over his body in a tingle. It doesn’t stop until it reaches his toes and he’s suddenly all too relaxed, lazing into the sheets and lolling his head to the side.

Zayn smirks above him, dipping his head to lick up his chest and swap the cum into Liam’s mouth with a kiss. Liam almost doesn’t feel Zayn lift himself from his cock but he does swiftly, reaching behind him to tear the condom off and toss it aside.

They lay and makeout for a while, until their jaws begin to hurt and an exhausted yawn stifles from Liam’s throat, turning his head to the side and ending the session.

“I quite fancy you,” Zayn says with his head on Liam’s chest, near his shoulder more than anything. All Liam can do is hold him at his side and nod. “It was good, yeah?”

“More than good,” Liam admits. “You’re like, I dunno. Amazing.”

“I’ve been told.”

“I’m sure.”

“Have you a phone?”

Liam quirks a brow. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Zayn ignores the remark. “Give me your number.”

“Why?” Liam questions, not because he doesn’t want to but because he couldn’t possibly fathom _why_.

“Because,” Zayn says, rolling so they’re chest to chest with their lips almost touching. “I want to see what else you might have in store next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written smut in 5ever and i'm lit editing this after i post it bc im impatient my bad


End file.
